


Going Nowhere

by Piccola_Poe



Category: Longmire (TV)
Genre: Depression, End of the World, M/M, Mental Breakdown
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-04
Updated: 2020-07-04
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:47:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25061857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Piccola_Poe/pseuds/Piccola_Poe
Summary: Alone at the end together and broken, but together.
Relationships: Walt Longmire/Henry Standing Bear
Comments: 2
Kudos: 7





	Going Nowhere

**Author's Note:**

> No connection to the Coronavirus (COVID-19) was created on February 20, 2020.  
> Comments 100% welcome.

Cruising slowly down a lonesome, long blank opened road with no particular time to arrive and nowhere to go. What remains anyway. Memories, empty buildings. Crossing the country again for the second time, looking for any life with little success which was of no surprise, leaving a trail of writing notes, signs in black paint, any message that could be left behind, everything was bittersweet; everything was bleak.

The two men who sat inside the Ford Bronco travelled the long and abandoned roads together, only stopping when both were worn out or needed to fill up. They wore a ragged look on their faces, whatever pain that they had been through showed, they had more in common with a cracked pavement than what a human being should. 

The black-haired man with a brown complexion you would have mistaken for the younger of the two, but they were the same age. The two did not seem to speak much anymore. The more youthful-looking one never let the other out of his sight, was it an anxious habit or was there more to this then meets the eye.

The one with the greying sandy blond hair was unbalanced; his eyes were dark as if he was a house with no lights on. Was he waiting to fall into decay, the structure standing tall, until nature and the elements had their way, he was the one refusing to talk. The other man was getting more and more nervous; he was suffering from a lack of communication and touch. A touch that had been so common now was a rarity.

When had everything been so wrong, the end had brought it, swiftly and quick. A new plague breaks out in America; all the states and borders shut down to try and contain it. People start rebelling against the government and do what they feel like; the plague slowly but surely took hold of the country. Guns could not stop it, but people were deciding to kill or be the victim. The epidemic did not stop no, not for anyone. It was in the air, moving with the wind and by the time the government found something to defeat it, it was too late. People in the town died, hated and well-loved. It took everyone. Disintegrate, leave no stone unturned, perished and dead.

There was no mercy. Burying friends, girlfriend and beloved daughter, who shared apart of your dead wife. All gone, everyone. Left there to dig the graves for the townspeople it was the only way to punish himself for living. Hole after hole, whether it was needed or not, just neat holes all in a row. When people turned up with the dead, they would know what to do.

Wandering around the area like a lost soul. Walt had already had a breakdown after Cady had left this world. He did not know who to blame, who to get angry at anymore, so he had just shut the doors, but there was still a need to protect his dying community. Every time they buried someone another would die, and then over a year, it was just the two of them.

Walt's breakdown had gotten worse from overprotectiveness with anger, to depression, tears and with Vic's death tiredness and no spoken words leaving his mouth for the next year.

It is not that Henry did not have a breakdown. It was that someone had to hold it together and quietly cry alone in the dark like a real man. Yeah, a real man. Who was twitching at the scene because he had not touched a human being in four years? Altogether the first year was all the panic and terror; the second year was death and depression; the third was hope and looking for others. The fourth-year was them alone together. 

Henry lay there in this empty hotel room with probably enough fluid stains on the walls to make a Jackson Pollock painting. He was not sure if he had achieved sleep, Henry felt close to a dreamy state but convinced that he had stared at the same wall for hours.

Where was the Henry Standing Bear that he once knew? The epidemic had hit hard; lines drawn in the sand. Henry had found himself in between a rock and a hard place. His heart wanted both his tribe and his family; he could not have both; it was standing with your tribe.

Then the call came through; it was Walt who had made the one-sentence message. "Cady…..". No one needed to be a genius or to have known Walter Longmire like a spiritual soul to understand what this meant. That one night, Henry Standing Bear crept away from the land of his people. Why, because his heart had died that night.

Walt had returned upon nightfall. Walking into the room looking more and more dishevelled every day, he had no care for himself anymore. “W..a..lt.” Henry felt like he had the lips of a dried-up valley. Walt turned to face him as the light reflecting from the one working lamp on the bedside table. "It is us now and only us." Shivering as he approached Walt. "I miss things, Walt. I miss you. I miss us..." Grabbing Walt's chin to hold his face still for a rough kiss. So there in some deserted town, in a forgotten place, within four walls, the past collided with the present one final time.


End file.
